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Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1672521
'That was the first time he ever called me Dad.' - Quite emotional.
In My Head.


Another set of blue eyes meet mine across the empty bar.
Of course he knew where to find me. His are wide and questioning, mine are dark, set and defiant, I know. I won’t be talked at by a kid. Not about this; it’s out of his depth. Out of mine too, but I’m not going to admit anything -won’t let anything slip again.

It’s not that I don’t care for the kid, I really do, it’s just…
I won’t talk about it to anyone. Not this.  And he mistakes my behaviour for coldness, but its not. Maybe it isn’t just that I won’t tell him. I – I can’t. I’m not ready to tell anyone, not even myself. Because to be honest, I don’t know how to answer his question. I don’t have the answer he wants; I don’t have an answer at all.
He asks again.

“Why won’t you stay?”

I turn away from him slightly, masking my cowardice by pretending to ponder his endless questioning. I really am a coward. I can’t even face a child’s simple question, let alone do anything to protect those I care most about. I am… I am nothing. I lost everything once, and I can’t risk losing this - my second chance. I don’t know why the others put up with me; I’m nothing but a burden to them. An intruder who lost his own family so was tagged onto theirs. I spent so long playing pretend and ‘happy families’ that I ran out of lies to hide behind. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong here at all and they know it and I know it so why is this kid still standing here trying to persuade me to follow some pipe-dream that won’t happen anyway…
I freeze in my frantic thoughts as the light weight of a hand on my shoulder rouses me from my mind. I look at him and he holds my gaze.

“Please, just come back. We all miss you at home, Dad. Come home. Please.”
Then he leaves.

I don’t notice I’m crying until I see the glistening droplets pooling on the bar counter. I only started living when I realised I had something to live for.
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